PJChristmasChallenge
by permanentlyonfire
Summary: Southern Hemisphere: Kangaroos, Hot Springs, and Cactus


Prow was surrounded by lunatics. Jazz was happily rocking back and forth on his struts, inanely singing about weather and warm things that made little sense. On his hood a peppy human femme – female- was humming with Jazz's music. The mode of transportation around them rocked eerily and every sound made Prowl recalculate the chance that they would crash into the vast oceans beneath them. He wasn't nervous, he was merely, sanely weary. And Jazz hadn't spoken but a few words to him since he'd came back online. And the rudimentary frame of this aircraft hadn't been designed to ferry about Cybertronian passengers-

"-owl?"

::Prowl!::

Forcing his thoughts to the side, and steadfastly ignoring the creaking of the plane, Prowl focused on the querying face above his hood. Autobot Ally Maggie Madsen. Off to his right Jazz emitted a few curious pings. Days without a decent recharge were affecting his performance.

"Yes?" Even his "voice" sounded tired. Mentally he sighed and tried to reroute some of his energy to his stereos. No need to sound weak.

Maggie's pose suggested curiosity too as she said, "I asked 'who are you?'." Though it seemed it might have been longer in origin, a trait of femmes that he had noted vorns ago. The woman's levels in her body indicated a heightened sense of awareness on her part, though Prowl doubted she could feel his scans. Beyond her he sensed Jazz's amusement at Prowl's extended "culture shock." Not that Prowl blamed him for his predicament, but he wanted to hit the silver saboteur. Prowl hadn't been one of the first to landfall on this planet for a reason.

::Well?:: And that distant note was back and the laughter was gone. Again the urge to sigh.

Prowl's thoughts looped back to the question and he answered simply, "I am Prowl. Second to Optimus Prime. Haven't I said this before?" Even with the onslaught of information the diversity of this planet had created for him, he remembered introducing himself.

"Yeah. You stated your name already, but -who- are you? How do you know Jazz? That type of gossip," Prowl flinched at the second question. Maggie continued on, oblivious, "That stupid kangaroo farmer was too busy staring at my bum and the giant hole in the ground for me to ask before." Without warning the girl seated herself comfortably on Prowl's hood. Maybe the plane crashing wouldn't be such a bad idea?

::Jazz?:: Prowl's much abused sensor net jittered at the close proximity of Maggie's body. Some chaotic piece of space trash had thrown off his landing trajectory. He had ended up nose under aft in the middle of a barren landscape. His external communications had offlined in the landing. Sensor levels that had been turned up to catch any disturbance in his space travel were stuck at uncomfortably high levels for planetary occupation.

::Yes?:: There was a smirk in that thought.

::Who is she?::

::NEST communications expert and Cybertronian historian officially. Really fraggin' curious off the books.:: Then Jazz retreated again, like he couldn't allow himself to talk to Prowl. Which was acceptable for the time being. Prowl did not necessarily want to touch that space jelly right now either. When they landed safe and sound at the Autobot base he would force Jazz to talk to him.

~oOo~

Prowl's whole demeanor left Jazz in a near permanent state of confusion. Before any of this, before leaving Cybertron Prowl had not wanted anything to do with Jazz. He'd stated that quite clearly. When he spoke now, he sounded like nothing had changed. Then as quickly as it came he'd back off again. Jazz couldn't tell if it was because he was trying to give the strategist his space. It could be a glitch due to the shoddy landing he'd had. In which case he'd be even more upset when Ratchet fixed him and he'd learned he'd been talking to Jazz amicably. Shaking the thoughts from his processors he turned his attentions to the conversation between Prowl and Maggie.

Prowl told his version of the war unbiasedly. It was very different from the Twins version. They told of fighting Shockwave for one of the last space bridges like they had done it single handedly. Except Mirage had been there too. And Hound had taken damage that would take time to heal. They had promised they would arrive soon.

Listening to Prowl, the same story was quite different. The bravery Mirage had displayed when the twins had been pinned down by a deranged seeker. Hound taking wounds that would have disabled the bridge they needed to launch into space. Prowl trying to force Mirage and Hound to come along. Finding Hound's injuries would have made his space travel too difficult. The likelihood of him permanently offlining during interstellar flight too possible. Mirage predictably stayed behind to guard the scout's back.

Prowl didn't leave men behind, it wasn't his style, but provisions would have lasted longer with one less mouth to feed. He'd determined it necessary to follow after Optimus.

Old pains filled the space between them again as Prowl carefully wove around the departure of Optimus's flagship. Jazz let his mind run over the diagnostics he had absently been picking up from the computer on the plane. The date came to his attention. Before the whole landing business Jazz had been up to some seasonal distractions. It was only six days before the human holiday Christmas.

Absently he opened the familiar channel that had been established between them eons ago, ::We'll have to get you and the Twins stockings.::

~oOo~

Prowl searched his meager English dictionary for some explanation. On Australia Jazz's only words had been to abstain from uplinking to any information networks while his sensor net was hypersensitive. The humans massive information network was tiny compared to anything Cybertronian in nature, but was once again vast in its diversity. His logic chips might have faulted. Jazz would know. And even though he had felt a sparkling need to defy Jazz's advice, just to spite him, he had no suicidal need to make Ratchet do more work than necessary to his systems.

::A human foot garment? Why?:: Quick scans reported no corroding of his external plating. Was the planet's surface toxic?

::Christmas tradition.::

The plane veered sharply and Prowl heard Jazz curse wildly as he tried to stay unmoving. Any questions he had disappeared. A slow bounce of information flitted across Prowl's senses, the communication between Jazz and the human pilots. Air outside the metal walls around them roared like monsters were tearing at the metal plating. Maggie secured herself to the harnesses lining the walls.

::We need to leave before this thing crashes with us in it.::

They were some distance above the surface of the Earth. Energon running hot with anticipation Prowl asked ::Chance of acquiring injuries?::

::None if we land right.:: And Prowl trusted him. Just like that. No questions asked because Jazz was the experienced mech here. Personal problems didn't apply in dangerous situations. It wasn't tactically sound to hold a grudge in a war.

::Alright. Lead.::

The grinding of gears as the cargo plane's rear door opened was the last sound Prowl recalled.

~oOo~

"Prowl?" Cool winds gusted past his internals. It felt like solid ground beneath him. And why had Jazz taken to speaking out loud?

Frizz on his internal com explained the change to external communication. The landing had done something to it. Maybe Skyfire would be willing to teach a ground mech how to land properly? If he was here. And he wasn't because this was Earth. The situation came back to him and he onlined his optics warily. What new Pit slag would this planet have for him now?

The sight of Jazz's visor registered. His frame was a cool gray in the overcast light, a shade similar to the rolling clouds in the sky beyond Jazz's helm. The plane was long gone.

"Prowl, are you okay?" Maggie's worried voice was hoarse and nearly drowned out by the whistling wind.

"That was...unexpected." His systems check told him his doorwings had been severely abused in the flight to the ground, further proof he needed flying lessons. His body also had a new assortment of dents and scrapes to add to his growing collection. For some reason he couldn't recall anything after the plane's door opened.

Maggie following them was unexpected too. She'd seemed securely hooked in the straps in the plane. Maybe it had been a flotation device. He didn't bother checking the misuse of the word, he knew what he meant. The memory loss he attributed to the sizable distortion of the protective plating on the back of helm. Ratchet would be pleased.

The look of worry on Jazz's face that was hastily schooled into a different, merely observing look made feelings of guilt curl in Prowl. He'd upset the saboteur, again.

Jazz forced a chuckle and helped Prowl get up, making sure he was steady before he retreated once more, "Primus. Ah didn't think the winds would catch your wings. Sorry." Prowl vented rapidly at the pain to his wings caused by the planet's gravity.

Ratchet was going to throw things. Everyone would think he was dead by the time Ratchet was done with him. A small hope ignited within him that maybe an absence from the war front had mellowed the CMO. He doubted it.

Rerouting the intensified pain to tertiary processors, Prowl focused instead on the stream of information coming into his systems. Without a different focus he wasn't sure he could move. A different sound entered with the different information, a crash of water on rock, a sound he'd heard briefly in Australia, "Did the plane continue safely?" Other observations confirmed that they were stranded by the ocean.

"Yeah." The minute workings of Jazz's systems came in too. The thrum of his pump redirecting energon to his extremities, power servos and sensors, only to repeat the process a nano-click later. Jazz's sensor net stationed in his audio horns brushed against Prowl's overactive one like a wild creature meeting a domesticated relative. Prowl turned to Maggie to shadow his embarrassment at his sparkling mistake. The readings from their surroundings filled his processor again.

"Do you know where we are?" A fruitless question most likely, but it was the woman's planet. She might know.

"No." So much for that. Carefully ignoring Jazz, Prowl focused on organizing the information the world around them gave him. They had landed on a gentle slope that gradually turned into a sizable mountain. White precipitation covered the ground in a thick layer, more of it still fell and it was chilling Prowl's outer plating as he stood there. To the northeast the ocean went on for miles. Maggie would never see anything in that direction. Even he couldn't see anything, but he picked up slight electric readings that civilization gave off.

To the east a vast group of tiny heat signatures moved chaotically, too small to be human. He set the information aside as animals he had not yet encountered. The list was a long one already and according to Maggie he had yet to touch the surface. The human shivered, understandable in the cold conditions they were in.

Magnetic resonances pinged off of his searching sweeps of the landscape, "We are approximately 1900 miles from Earth's magnetic pole."

"North pole," Jazz quietly affirmed the statement. The magnetic resonance he employed himself was useful for gaining a sense of direction.

"North?!" Maggie drew both mech's attention, stomping and waving her arms in an attempt to warm herself up. Being human around robots twice as tall as she was didn't phase her but she hated being short. "We're still in the southern hemisphere right? Australia's down here!"

"Earth's polarity is reverse from the compass directions," Jazz avoided Prowl's curious expression. If he did, he'd get caught up in trying to talk too much. They didn't have time for that right now. If ever. He spoke as he determined the thermal heat he could sense on the other side of the mountain, "We're in Antarctica my friend. And there are hot springs!" Winking at Maggie he started up the slope, waving at both of his companions to hurry, "You wanted a warm vacation, as I recall." She'd also been stubbornly interested in Jazz's interest in the new arrival. She'd vehemently spat that it was her homeland, and she was a political ambassador for NEST. The political BS in Washington had been the last straw, even if it was Christmas. Keller had approved the request without argument and Jazz hadn't really had a choice.

Ironhide had volunteered to go. His view had been "Just in case it's a Decepticon." But Sideswipe had assured them all that Prowl had reentered right behind them. So Jazz had toughened up and reassured Ironhide-Ironhide of all mechs-that he would be fine. If Prowl didn't want his company he would have to be a mech about it. Now he was just confused.

"More along the lines of not freezing in the middle of it, but a hot spring sounds nice right about now." Feeling ridiculously human, Maggie rigidly took off in the direction Jazz had, "I feel like a bloody penguin."

"Prowl could carry you. He runs warmer than I do," The lack of a second set of large crunching footsteps made him pause. Still where they had landed, Prowl was watching the crest of a hill off in the distance. At the peak a small black and white creature was tottering around on the slippery ice like an ungainly ice skater. "It's just a penguin Prowl."

"Yeah. Come on already. It's starting to get darker. I think it's going to snow," She looked at the snow already falling lightly with a frown, "Well, snow more at least."

Nodding distractedly, Prowl picked up Maggie and followed Jazz's path. A particular phrase she had used circled his processors, "Why do you think you are a small black and white animal?"

~oOo~

Half an hour later unfavorable weather moved in. The wind picked up and wintry air blasted through every nook and cranny in Prowl's form but he was still emitting a steady amount of heat. It was another side affect of his injured and space adapted systems. Not that his circuits were anymore likely to freeze in this cold than they were in space, but Maggie wasn't complaining. With the way his trip was going so far he was going to take his blessings where he could. Primus was not smiling on him at the moment it seemed.

Any humans traveling in this region would stumble upon only one set of footprints. His heat was melting the snow and ice around his steps. But the liquid was freezing as quickly as they moved. He couldn't see the silver mech in front of him, the snow was too thick, but Jazz was moving as easily up the mountain slope as he would on a flat surface. His movements left little trace of his passage. Prowl had to perform more precise scans to even sense Jazz in the snow storm. It made him nervous, but he trusted the other to not leave him behind.

"Are you sure there are hot springs hour here?" Maggie shouted the words into the howling wind. She was warm enough in the bubble of heat that surrounded Prowl's armor, but Antarctica was cold for a reason. "Why do you know that anyway?" Prowl had allowed the question to briefly ruminate in his own thoughts, but had quickly passed it off as a Jazz quandary. It was a law somewhere that Jazz just knew information, and to question it was to question the universe.

Jazz suddenly appearing from the indiscernible wall of falling snow startled Maggie and Prowl glared at the mech. He glared at the snow too. Earth was not receiving him kindly. His first human contact was under threat of falling, startled by his comrade, freezing to death due to the weather, and his own luck was unlikely to affect the woman, but he didn't want to test that theory.

Prowl startled from his internal musing as Jazz explained his recent search for a good soak. The Autobots current base was undergoing restructuring to accommodate living spaces with wash racks for the 'bots as the ocean was difficult to soak in. It was too cold to really help tight energon lines and stuck joints. Salt water wasn't corrosive to Cybertronian bodies-Prowl checked off another question on his mental checklist-but it wasn't cleansing either. Apparently Australia had some accommodating hot springs, but they hadn't had time to rest there. Optimus had wanted them to return as soon as possible. Prowl had wanted his slightly faulty systems fixed as soon as possible too. Now he really wanted the glitches debugged, he was contemplating the possibilities of luck! Another number filled his processor as he tried to return to logical thinking.

"There are three trillion." Jazz and Maggie stopped arguing over the advantages to a mineral soak at Prowl's announcement. Both of them shot him a "huh?" look.

"Three whats?" Prowl grasped the confusion behind the ineloquent response.

"Ah," Prowl actively scanned and reaffirmed the data, thankful to be thinking about something else, "There are three trillion teaspoons of snow on the ground within the square mile that we are standing in. Give or take a few tablespoons." It was one of the more interesting measuring systems he had derived from the english dictionary he had at his disposal.

"Prowl..." Jazz worried the fall might have done more damage than Prowl was willing to admit. The wind had wrenched the mech's door wings pretty badly, but he wasn't carrying them any differently. His systems were already taxed with his sensor net, he had felt Prowl's probe his own earlier. Jazz realized what Prowl had done and he groaned. Prowl would crash if they didn't find a place to rest soon. He needed to ask if Prowl wanted him to do some field repairs on his doorwings. It had been orns since the strategist had seen a medic of any status and his frame told its own stories. At one point Prowl might have trusted him to do some minor hacks to bypass painful neural responses. Jazz wasn't sure he would now.

"I'm fine Jazz. My systems are still adjusting, that's all," Jazz winced at the biting tone. If Prowl wanted to be left alone he could do that. He turned back to finding the quickest path up the mountainside. Maybe too much time had passed.

Near the top of the small mountain they had ascended Prowl politely informed Jazz that he had picked up heat signatures near the bottom of the other side. Thankfully the other side of the mountain wasn't nearly as steep. Small islets of plateaus dotted the rocky landscape before them. "We've found some more people." Jazz pointed in the general location of the human settlement.

Prowl jolted Maggie awake with a gentle motion of his arm servos, "We're near a human settlement." He set her down on the ground where she shivered outside the bubble of warmth she'd been napping in, "You should approach them before the wind grows too fierce. We will await your response here."

"Why can't you come wit-" She slapped her forehead, grinned at the two twenty-foot tall robots and turned away, muttering to herself as she picked the best way down the last bit of the slope. Off in the distance steel gray buildings puffed smoke lazily into the air. Sled dogs barked as she neared the outpost.

As Prowl set about settling his worn frame comfortably onto the icy ground Jazz coughed, almost nervously, and jerked his helm after Maggie, "There are hot springs here. We could go down there instead of freezing our afts off up here. The humans won't come out in weather like this." Optics ridges raised in a hopeful expression, a more human expression Jazz had obviously picked up, Prowl nodded and straightened again. He didn't want to move anymore and a good soak sounded nice.

~oOo~

On Earth the star patterns were different. If it weren't for the magnetic regularities, Prowl would have felt blind and uncoordinated on his new home. Half submerged in the warm pools the humans had dug, Prowl had no inclination to move. His senses were numb with the heat and his low energon levels were acceptable for once. The dark half night created by the snow wasn't threatening death and Maggie hadn't returned from the human outpost. The chance to relax was rare. NEST was obviously well organized if the way Jazz and Maggie had been quick to meet him in Australia was any indication.

The peace allowed thoughts he had kept at bay all day to surface. Little bubbling thoughts that brimmed over with emotions he hadn't let out for a very very long time. All of the thoughts surrounded the mech sitting silently across from him. The warmth had not quieted his sensor feeds entirely. All of the information seemed to reflect his thoughts too. He easily took in Jazz's pump rate, his temperature, and energy levels.

Previous information coalesced with current readings and a deviation readily became apparent, "Jazz?"

Voice lazy, nearly in recharge, Jazz roused himself to answer, "Yah Prowl?"

"Why are your systems running at suboptimal levels?"

"None of your business." The wind picked up, trailing blowing snow that melted on the surface of the warm water.

"Jazz."

"Prowl." Jazz's visor looked as sharp as a blade in that moment. The mech that thought of Christmas and joked about being lost with Maggie was gone. Anger was left.

Jazz's systems were running at stealth levels, a little nuance he could engage in his programming to keep his presence invisible to anyone scanning. He'd done it easily after he'd realized that his systems might distract Prowl. It was something nice to do. Something that he shouldn't have wanted to do but had done like it was second natured anyway.

The half day became more ominous. Prowl understood what this was about. It had nothing to do with him asking about Jazz's systems and everything do with his actions back on Cybertron.

"Look, Jazz. I said some things a little more harshly than I should have-" Prowl was still confused. Hadn't Jazz heard?

"Damn right you did," Startling Prowl, Jazz stood and stepped out of the pool, "But you know what. I understand why ya did it and I'm over it."

On Cybertron, before the loss of the AllSpark, Prowl had been working constantly, directing fighting fronts while still planning future strategies for factors the Decepticons had yet to use. After the AllSpark was lost to space and Megatron took off after it Prowl was still working, except he was pooling resources together instead of planning battle strategies. He had been the lead mech in orchestrating Prime's chase after Megatron and the AllSpark. There had only been enough room for five mechs on the last Autobot craft that could take sustained space flight damage. Jazz hadn't wanted to go.

It was an unspoken consensus that the men left on Cybertron probably wouldn't survive. Decepticon troops were too strong; their drone numbers too many. Energon wasn't easy to obtain and none of it was refined enough for long lasting survival. Optimus's decision was a morale boost, not a war winning strategy. The chances that his expedition might return was too slim.

Stealth: Jazz, Third Lieutenant

Scout: Bumblebee

Medic: Ratchet

Firepower: Ironhide

On a data-pad the strategy was flawless. Emotions hadn't been taken into account. Prowl had known Jazz wouldn't take well to going. Silly insults wouldn't have thrown off his longtime friend and relatively short time lover. No, Prowl had struck harder. He knew Jazz felt unconfident in his ability to keep Prowl's attention. Not like their friendship and Prowl making the first move had held much sway over Jazz's opinion.

"It was a release for war. Nothing more Jazz."

Those words had done it. Oh yes, Prowl had further explained his reasoning, logically, coldly, heartlessly. Energon fasting had added more snipe to his words. His logic had been impeccable. If he'd actually not held an iota of care for Jazz and had only been using him. For thousands of vorns. Even Prowl never thought Jazz would accept that.

Except that he had. Jazz would live on. Prowl knew that. He was a survivor and Optimus Prime would never let his men die. By the time the crew left even Ironhide was growling at him.

But Jazz shouldn't still believe he felt that way. He'd specifically left a message for him.

"Wait!" Prowl stumbled out of the pools, ignoring the way his joints wanted to lock up in the biting air. He couldn't just let Jazz go, not a second time.

A momentary pause on Jazz's part was a bad idea. Prowl tripped and suddenly they were scuffling in the snow. Something snapped in Jazz. He growled and hit Prowl, hard. It was a glancing blow to his chassis, but it tinged sensory nodes that were reeling in the temperature difference. Prowl rolled to the side to escape any more hits-he needed to explain!-but Jazz was obviously used to the inconsistent weather because he was moving easily once more. He landed on Prowl's middle, effectively using his knee joints to pin Prowl's legs, pulling his fist back. The trajectory would have it hitting his face and Prowl closed his optic lids, waiting as Jazz said, "You SLAGGER!"

Prowl didn't vent for a moment when the fist didn't hit his face. He deserved it. He deserved any punishment Jazz had for him. When pain receptors weren't screaming he carefully opened his optic lids. Hanging there above him were Jazz's own optics. Uncovered, glowing, and frustrated. Prowl was stunned. Jazz leaned back, placing an uncomfortable amount of his weight on Prowl's pelvic joints he asked, "Why?"

Prowl was reeling, Jazz had nearly hit him. Now he was exposing his optics. Stunned processors threw out the first response that came to mind, "Did you get my message?"

"What?" Now it was Jazz's turn to be confused. Prowl felt the inappropriate need to let out a hysterical laugh.

"I left a message with you, before you left," He'd made sure that Jazz had it a day before he'd dropped the metaphorical bomb on their perfect little world.

"Ah didn't want to hear it," A perfectly acceptable response for a broken sparked mech, and Prowl prepared to repeat it as Jazz finished, "And ah kinda lost it."

"Lost it?"

"Well when a mech gets torn in half by Megatron that can happen." Jazz reported it so nonchalantly. The information settled and Prowl wanted to shake Jazz senseless. He'd assumed the new welds around Jazz's middle were patch ups due to fighting. He had been told briefly that Megatron was back, which meant that Starscream was probably here too. So fighting was likely.

Prowl had to tell him now. Before something else tried to destroy either one of them. He repeated his message he had recorded before, "It was all a lie. I'll love you until the day my spark fades." He evaded the startled, searching look in Jazz's eyes to trace the newer plating at the saboteur's middle. He'd overlooked the work as a minor patch job. His processors truly were scrambled. "How'd you survive?" Snow fell quietly on them again. Prowl's door wings were lodged uncomfortably under him, but he didn't care.

"With old Ratchet and the AllSpark helping," Jazz's voice trembled. Prowl hadn't looked at him so carefully since he'd landed. His touch left warmth in it's wake.

"I'm sorry. Do you believe that?" Now Prowl searched Jazz's optics. Few had ever seen them before. There were legends about what was under the visor.

"Maybe. I wish you had trusted me," Jazz sighed sadly. All of that spark ache tugged at Prowl's own spark.

"You needed to go."

"I might have. If you'd only asked me proper-like."

"I did ask you! And you argued with me. I couldn't just let you die. And Optimus needed you. I knew we'd meet again," Prowl was losing his momentum. He'd still had a hard time convincing himself it was the right thing to do after Optimus's ship had left. Vorns later the conviction was almost gone.

Jazz groaned and rolled off of Prowl. They were arguing. He helped the white and black plated mech up to his feet. Prowl didn't let go of his hands, "I love you. Always have. Always will. And I'm sorry I was such a glitch head."

"Hey guys!" The moment cracked and Prowl jumped at the sound of Maggie's voice, hearing it again as it echoed back across the bay. Jazz just chuckled, after his visor was back again, but something felt different this time. Something intangible between them had formed again and Prowl silently moved closer to Jazz as the other asked over his shoulder, "Yeah Maggie?"

Prowl tried to not bother Jazz with his overly excited sensor net that kept poking at Jazz's own. He just had a hard time keeping his attention elsewhere. The ocean was calming, but it didn't hold a flame to the interest Jazz held for him. Absently he registered the news that Optimus had another military flight, one that wouldn't crash, for them all the next morning. He smirked as Jazz compelled Maggie that it was cold and she should go back inside because it was cold and no they weren't busy before she had come out there and yes the water was lovely this evening, could she please go away now?

After the female had left and just because he had to poke a good thing, it was in his nature, Prowl asked, "Are we good?" He would understand if they were not "good." It would be logical for Jazz to still be upset. It would be his right. Prowl hadn't been a good mech.

Jazz searched the stars before he looked at Prowl, his grin back, "I might find it in my spark to forgive you."

~oOo~

"So," Prowl searched for something safe to talk about, otherwise the human scientists that had quizzically taken in Maggie would have something else to study, like Cybertronian spark rituals, "Christmas?" Christmas was safe. Christmas, a human holiday, didn't lead to thoughts better for the berth. Jazz just laughed at his attempted nonchalance.

"A human holiday. Santa Claus, Christmas Trees, and gifts," Jazz grabbed Prowl's arm and led him back to the hot springs. The sandy edges of the pool had not wholly survived Prowl's clumsy attempts to leave before, so they didn't care to be careful this time. Let the humans believe what they wanted to.

Prowl picked up on the mention of more organics. This entire planet was nothing but organics, "Another tree?" The vast number of varying plant species boggled Prowl's mind. Cybertronians were diverse, but nowhere near the level of this planet.

"It's a green prickly plant."

Prowl drew in the soft sand an image from memory, a small plant that he'd seen in Australia, "Like this?"

"No. That's a cactus. More like this," Jazz drew his own rendition of a Christmas tree, with different Christmas ornaments and a star at the top. Silence fell between them again, but this one was comfortable. The ocean rolled closer, the tide coming in an inch at a time.

Jazz grinned cheekily at Prowl, "I like mistletoe too." The glimmer of amusement in his optics was dangerous. "It goes quite well over a berth. I think we'll have to try it out. It is Christmas you know."

~Fin


End file.
